Total pages in book: 50
Estimated words: 47187 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 236(@200wpm)___ 189(@250wpm)___ 157(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 47187 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 236(@200wpm)___ 189(@250wpm)___ 157(@300wpm)
“Exactly. Killing is his goal. Torture is a bonus. But everything else? It’s just a game to him.”
“What kind of job could this guy have? Highly intelligent and with enough time for an elaborate kill and an elaborate dump site?” This guy is an enigma and with Amelia’s profile, it has me wondering if this killer is beyond my skill set. Maybe I’m still too tired to focus correctly, or maybe he’s just better than me.
“Don’t look like that,” Amelia chides. “This is how serial killers act. They make you doubt yourself and your skills. It’s a defense mechanism, Frankie. Don’t succumb to it. If you do, he wins.”
A laugh escapes. “Jesus Christ, Amelia…he’s already winning.” I gesture to the body, surrounded by the forensics team. “Another notch in his belt.”
“Hence the serial in serial killer. This guy was as good as dead before you even found the last body, Frankie. The perp probably has a list, and all you can do is put the pieces together before he gets to the end. Or worse.”
I frown. “What could be worse than a dozen dead bodies?”
She shrugs. “A confident serial killer who leaves your jurisdiction. Another detective will have to start from scratch while this guy’s kill number keeps going up.”
Shit. “Thanks, Amelia. That’s all I needed to hear.” This guy is already getting in my head, and I can’t let that happen. That’s how we make mistakes.
Amelia nods and gives me a rueful smile. “Anytime. I’m going to head back to the lab, see if I can dig up anything else on our mystery man. Keep me posted?”
“You got it.” I watch her walk away before turning to Padilla. “Fill in Dr. Novak on what we’ve got so far but keep her away from the body. Don’t need her getting all hot and bothered over this sick bastard’s handiwork.”
Officer Padilla nods, puffing out his chest as he leads Amelia aside, no doubt eager to impress the pretty psychologist with his wealth of gory details. I turn my attention back to the crime scene.
This son of a bitch may be smart, and he may have a head start, but I’ll be damned if I let him win. I’m going to hunt him down and make him pay for every life he’s taken.
Jay steps beside me. “The forensics have it all in hand now. Wanna grab a cup of coffee?”
“Always,” I nod. “But in this neighborhood, a gas station is as good as it gets.” I shudder at the thought, because that shit is just as bad as the precinct coffee.
“Such a coffee snob,” he jokes. “Come on. I spotted some food trucks close by, and I bet they have good coffee. And food.”
I turn and follow him back to the car. “Who are you, and what have you done with my grouchy ass partner?”
“You mean your wiser yet supremely hip partner?” Jay wiggles his brows and starts the car as we head off toward some coffee truck he insists he knows about, but I don’t. Right as I'm fastening my seatbelt, he switches to big brother mode, ready to give me some advice. I roll my eyes but settle in for the lecture, too tired to push back against his patronizing shit.
“Listen, Frankie, I know I’m not your father, and I wouldn’t dare try to replace him, but you know you can always talk to me.”
“I know,” I sigh and tell myself to get over myself. Jay’s been like a father to me since I was a young girl. Jay and my dad were partners, so he’s always been Uncle Jay to me, but two weeks after my fifteenth birthday, he became more than just an uncle.
He was the only father-figure I had after the men he and my father were investigating broke into our home in the middle of the night. My dad protected me and my mom, fighting off the intruders and putting a bullet in one of them. After a nasty fistfight, though, they overpowered him and shot him before Jay could get there. Jay arrived like a hero, killing two of them before rushing my dad to the hospital, where he died a few minutes later.
So, Jay’s a father to me in all the ways that matter, and if I can tell anyone what’s bothering me, it’s Jay. But that doesn’t make it easy to put the thoughts into words. I sigh heavily and look at Jay. He’s older now, his hair more gray than not at this point, but he’s still the best damn cop I know.
“You gonna make me pull it out of you, or do I have to guess?”
I smile, my resistance to his probing my personal life gone like the wind. “You’re getting impatient in your old age, Jay.”
He grins, pulling up to an empty parking space in front of the food trucks. I hit the first truck selling coffee and pastries and luck out because one sip and I’m in heaven. Jay is finally learning how to pick a decent cup of coffee.